


Identity Property

by Mooselk



Series: Rotation and Reflection [1]
Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Marriage, Politics, except not really, kind of, the entire fire tribe family is mentioned but don't actually appear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:31:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8574898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mooselk/pseuds/Mooselk
Summary: This is how they were meant to be: the three of them together, even when their lives crumble around them.  As long as they have each other they can survive. At least, that is what they have always believed.AU Soowon joins Yona and Hak when they flee from the palace in the wake of Sujin’s invasion.





	

Their marriage is small and quiet, taking place in a small shrine in the middle of Fuuga. Mundeok officiates and cries openly, the tears both of pride and of grief. It is a bastardized ceremony. They cannot go through with many of the customary steps for fear of being noticed by the ever-present Fire Tribe patrols. Besides, neither the bride nor the groom have any family members left alive to approve the match. In normal times, something like this would be the height of scandal. These are not normal times. If they are alive by the time this all blows over, then they will let the priests debate the legitimacy of the marriage. But Mundeok officiates weddings often, so he knows the rules well and understands how to bend them appropriately. He is also in possession of the ceremonial wine and knows whom to bribe to acquire proper garb for all the participants of the ceremony.

Running her hands over the smooth fabric of her over skirt, Yona can almost make herself feel like a princess again. Of course, this dress is of lower quality than those that she wore everyday in her palace life. But it is much more familiar to her than the dresses of plain linen that she has been wearing since she, Hak, and Soowon left Kuuto.

The fine robes Yona had been wearing during Sujin’s invasion had been traded in the shady establishments where the trio had hidden for two weeks following Sujin’s coup. Soowon had disappeared with them and came back stumbling under the weight of three thick, coarse cloaks, Yona’s new plain dress, and several satchels of dried food. The fabric of those robes with its delicate embroidery had been expensive enough to trade for all this as well as extra money, which Soowon had in turn used to get Yona a pair of sturdier shoes and a small dagger.

“Of course, I had to call in a favor for the dagger, but the money helped.” He had said, smiling, when Yona expressed disbelief that just her clothing could be worth that much. “Your earrings would probably buy us at least two mules. But we’re travelling a mountain path, right Hak?”

“Yeah, and mules are too conspicuous with the Fire Tribe watching the roads.” The matter was dropped and Yona came in contact with rough linen for the first time in her life. She never knew how much she would miss the feeling of silk under her hands. Now, however, she wears these wedding robes and offhandedly wonders of their price.

She has dreamed of her wedding, naturally. Yona grew up knowing that as the princess, her wedding would come with festivals and endless ceremonies, extravagant layers of silk on embroidered silk, and the crowning of a new king. She never could have imagined this- standing in a tiny shrine in borrowed wedding garb, with only the official and one witness, without her father behind her. Her father… Yona lets out a tiny, choked sigh as the grief threatens to swallow her again. She grounds herself by locking eyes with her husband to be.

Funny, how fate works. In her previous life, marrying him had been her dream, and also an impossibility. Her father was against it, although Yona still could not have said why. But also she could never get him to notice her, no matter how much she tried. It was like he looked at her and saw the child he had played with years ago. But now, with Sujin on the throne and all other options gone, Yona looks at Soowon and knows he sees her as she is now- a young woman of marriageable age, the rightful heir to a stolen throne. Even if his feelings never change from seeing her as a little sister, at least she will be close to him. And together, with Hak at their side, they are Kouka’s best bet at reuniting the tribes and forcing Sujin, with his Kai allies, out of Hiryuu Castle.

Hak presents her with the cup of wine. She drains it slowly, watching him without really noticing the taste. He has a peculiar expression on his face. There is pride there, definitely, but also a touch of something else. Wistfulness, maybe? She can’t be sure. Hak has always been difficult for her to read. He takes the empty cup from her, flashing her a small smile as he refills it and hands it to Soowon. Soowon does not hesitate, draining it in one gulp. It is done.

They leave Fuuga the next morning, painfully early. Mundeok has directed them in the direction of a priest that allegedly lives in Wind Tribe territory. Soowon had been strongly opposed to taking the detour to visit the priest when it had first come up.

“The gods have not helped us thus far- I doubt that they will intervene even if we do spend weeks searching the wilderness,” he had argued. His own suggestions were far less abstract: he wanted to go scout the situations in the other tribes and see if their resentment against the Fire Tribe could be mustered into a rebellion.

Yona, however, feels comforted by the idea of a priest. There haven’t been any in Hiryuu palace for as long as she can remember, but her father had been religious and told her stories of the gods. It was the first actual disagreement she had ever had with Soowon and it left her feeling shaken. But Hak took her side, outnumbering her husband, and so it was decided that they would seek out the priest first and then go find Soowon’s connections.

They make it past the patrols seemingly without incident. Yona casts a final look at Fuuga, and at the thin trickle of the once-boisterous river beside it. The Fire Tribe’s dam has been very effective in suppressing Fuuga’s fighting spirit. Yona has seen too many thirsty children in the past week. The final glance at the river fills her heart with angry determination all over again. Kang Sujin will be stopped. He must be.

The travelling almost feels familiar. Their journey from Kuuto to Fuuga had been much like this: quietly walking, sometimes exchanging small comments as to the next meal or campsite. No one really has much to say. It isn’t comfortable, but it isn’t horrible either. And after the single night she spent locked in her chambers by Sujin’s guards, not knowing what was happening or whether she would ever see her loved ones again, Yona hesitates to call anything horrible.

It all goes horribly wrong on the fourth day. They are walking through a barren, mountainous region, high above a green valley, when Hak freezes and rushes to press his ear against a large rocky outcropping.

He returns quickly, mouth set into a grim line. “Pursuers. At least fifty of them. “

“Are you sure they’re after us?” Yona asks, heart pounding. They had managed to avoid any direct confrontation thus far and she had hoped it would continue this way.

“There’s nothing here but rock and trees. There’s no other reason for a force of that size to be here.”

Soowon’s eyebrows knit together, “I suppose we were seen leaving Fuuga. What shall we do, Hak?”

“They’re almost here; I don’t think we can outrun them. And there is nowhere to hide in this place. So I guess our only option is to stand and fight,“ Hak replies, baring his teeth in a feral grin. With a fluid motion, he tears the wrapping off the blade of his glaive. He then reaches out with his left arm and snags Yona by the waist, drawing her close to him.

Behind him, Soowon unsheathes his sword. Yona is suddenly terribly afraid. Hak is mind-bogglingly capable at fighting but he cannot cover both of them at the same time. And with Yona herself barely proficient with a cooking knife – and only this after their days traveling in the woods - Soowon is going to have to fend for himself.

Hak’s arm tightens around her and she sees the ring of soldiers in Fire Tribe garb that has surrounded them, from above, on the cliff face, and on both flanks. A single figure steps forward, dressed in finer robes than the rest. With a start, she recognizes him and her terror is briefly overpowered by irritation. Kang Tae-jun. _Ugh._ He’s saying something annoying about her, probably. There, she heard her name just now. _Ugh._

The next few minutes pass in a blur. Halfway through Tae-jun’s monologue, Hak bursts into action, barreling through the ranks of soldiers blocking their escape like a bull. Half concealed under Hak’s over robe, Yona can only rely on the sounds of Soowon’s blade screeching against the enemies’ to ascertain his presence. They run, Yona barely managing to keep her legs on the ground. Why is there so much _noise_ in battle? She hates it. She hates this so much.

She hears Soowon’s exclamation behind them and then Hak jerks against her side, a long hiss escaping him. He drops her for a brief moment and she sees the arrow embedded in his shoulder. For a long moment, Hak seems to curl in on himself, his eyes fluttering shut. Then, he straightens abruptly and breaks the bolt off in a swift, relentless motion. Blood splatters across his robe, a dark stain on the deep blue. Before she can say anything, Yona is grabbed again and they resume their pace.

The three finally manage to hide from their pursuers behind some bushes. Soowon is panting. One of his pristine white sleeves is stained red by the shoulder where he had not quite evaded a strike. Despite the large dark stain spreading on his back, Hak’s face is still set into a blood thirsty smile. He stands, hefting his glaive onto his shoulder. The movement is slower and choppier than usual.

“You two hide here and don’t move. I’ll go and finish the job,” His grin is lopsided and Yona suddenly can’t control her tears.

“You can’t, Hak. You’re going to die if you do that and you aren’t allowed to, do you hear me?” Hak looks genuinely shocked for a moment and then his face falls into a familiar teasing smirk

“Me, The Thunder Beast, dying against useless minions like these? Princess, I knew that there was nothing under that shiny hair of yours, but that’s especially insulting.” He pauses for a moment, “Besides, it is unbecoming for the rightful Queen of Kouka- a married woman- to be crying over another man.” He sticks out his tongue briefly and then he turns and is gone.

“Hak, wait!” Yona starts to scream before her mouth is covered abruptly by a hand. She looks at Soowon, feeling betrayed.

“If he needs to protect us it will only be harder for him,” he says in an undertone. “This way at least he stands a chance.”

There is a rustle in the bushes behind them and a single soldier stands, looking wide eyed at them. Before he can raise the alarm, Soowon flies at him and slashes his throat. Blood splatters, a droplet landing on Yona’s cheek. She recoils in horror and disgust, staring at Soowon’s dripping sword. She hears a soft exclamation of dismay.

“They saw me. Yona, stay here, please. I’ll lead them away,” and then he is gone as well, leaving her alone and crying as silently as she can.

Before she knows it, she is crouching in terror behind a bush, watching Hak and Soowon try to fend off fifteen soldiers each. They aren’t doing well. Soowon’s upper arm is injured, he is fighting left-handed. And Hak…another arrow sticks out of his shoulder. The archer that shot him is three feet in front of Yona, already readying the next shot. Suddenly, Yona can’t stand being useless anymore. She lunges, knocking the archer off his feet and down the steep cliff. She hears someone shout her name from below, but she cannot answer. Kang Tae-jun blocks her path, his features set into a sickening parody of a smile. A fire lights in her heart and begins to burn.

* * *

 

Somehow, in all his calculations and doubts about this journey, Soowon could not have imagined a worse scenario than the one playing out right now. Even at his most pessimistic he could not have dreamed that this detour to look for meaningless divine guidance would cost him everything he had left.

The past few hours have been a blur of Fire Tribe soldiers, Kang Tae-jun’s insufferable speeches, and running. After leaving Yona hidden, he and Hak had been holding their own against the daunting odds, right up to the moment when Yona had decided to make her re-appearance. That distraction had cost them everything.

One missed block, one misstep, a horrible teetering moment, and Soowon is pinned to the ground by two Fire Tribe soldiers as the only two people he could not bear to lose plummet off the edge of the highest cliff in the Kingdom of Kouka. He hears Yona’s distant scream thin and disappear. There is a lot of shouting from the Fire Tribe soldiers but it all fades away into a background hum. _This is not real. This cannot be real._ This is not where he should have lost them. He stares at the spot where they had been not a minute ago, willing Hak’s hand to reappear, for something, anything, _any sign._ There is nothing.

            Kang Taejun shuffles by in front of him, looking empty and pale. He clutches something to himself; it glints a familiar shade red in the dying rays of the sunset. Soowon is suddenly full of horrible, twisting rage, the like of which he has not felt since _that day_. His throat is already raw from screaming – he does not remember screaming - and it burns as he writhes against the hands holding him down and screeches all the curses he can think of at this man who has _taken them from him._

            One of the soldiers kicks him in the side, something cracks, and his curses turn into rasping coughs. A commander is over there instantly, muttering something about important hostages and proper treatment. Soowon’s arms are tied awkwardly behind him- his dislocated shoulder screams in protest and he can’t bite back a pained hiss – and he is lifted roughly and made to walk a short distance. He is then bundled on to a horse in front of some random soldier. Soowon does not take note of the direction they set off in. He could guess if he needed to but somehow it does not seem at all important. Nothing really feels like it matters anymore.

Behind the haze of pain from both his shoulder and his now-probably-broken ribs, Soowon is completely numb. Memories of Hak and Yona spin in his mind. Hak’s affectionate punches, Yona’s failed attempts at making food. Yona’s shining eyes during their wedding. Hak’s wine flushed face the night before when he confessed to loving the woman he had half-bullied Soowon into marrying. All gone, now. If Sujin had not betrayed him, this would have been his fault. Even with Sujin’s betrayal, this is his fault. They are dead, and it is because of him.

He cannot say how many days they have been riding for. They have all blurred together into one dark, uncomfortable fog. He has vague recollections of stopping, of being fed something, and of one vivid nightmare which seemed to return every time he slips into unconsciousness. In it, he has not been betrayed, and his uncle’s blood darkens his sword and his robes. He looks up from his uncle’s still face and sees himself, a looming figure in white, reflected in Yona’s terrified eyes. She gives a cry and flees, disappearing into the dark. Then, her scream, getting further and further away.

Something hits him over the head lightly, familiarly. He turns, and sees Hak, holding his glaive just as he did so many times during their training together. Hak bleeds from a wound in his shoulder, his neck bent at an odd angle. Fury burns coldly in his eyes.

“You betrayed us. You let us fall. How could you do that to her, Soowon? How could you do that to me?”

 

Soowon comes out of his nightmare-filled stupor to find himself falling off of the horse. The rider behind him is gone. Soowon tries to put out a hand to catch himself and remembers about the bonds a second too late. He falls hard, landing on his already injured shoulder and bashes his head into the ground. A strangled cry escapes him at the new burst of pain and he lies where he has fallen, winded, his face pressed against the trampled grass. There is the sound of frightened horses and clamoring voices, as well as the swish and thud of arrows. Someone loudly and desperately calls for a retreat.

Maybe he will die here. That actually does not sound too bad at this point. It is definitely better than the public execution that awaits him back at Hiryuu Palace. He will see Hak and Yona again…

The noise has mostly disappeared. There are a couple muted voices and he hears footsteps coming in his direction.

“Look! Over here! They had a prisoner,”

“Is he still alive? Any enemy of the Fire Tribe is a potential ally for us,” comes the reply from directly over him. The bonds on his hands are cut and he groans at the awful stiffness in his arms being added to the pain of his shoulder. There are hands on him, turning him gently onto his back. Soowon cracks his eyes open to see two strangers in green and brown leaning over him. Then, black dots crowd his vision and he closes his eyes again.

“Hey Boss! We stole a Fire Tribe prisoner!” One of them calls. The pounding in Soowon’s head increases. He thinks he is being rescued; it is a bad time for his head to fail him. He needs to be able to think, to explain…

There is a grunt of acknowledgement and more footsteps. Then, a sharp , familiar, intake of breath and Soowon opens his eyes to find Joodoh staring down at him in complete shock. The general’s face crumples.

“Oh.” Is all Soowon can muster before black fills his vision again and he falls back into his now familiar nightmares.

 

When Soowon finds out Joodoh is now the leader of a guerrilla effort against the Fire Tribe, he laughs until the pain from his ribs turns the laughter into hacking coughs.

“What else was I supposed to do, with that damn Sujin putting a price on the head of every Sky Tribe authority?” Joodoh grumbles in response. He is the most straight-laced, honorable person Soowon knows. The image of him as a bandit leader is like something from a bad tavern joke. Hak and Yona would have loved it. Hak and Yona are dead. It is his fault. He hides the urge to sob in his coughing.

“Where…exactly are we?” Soowon asks after his bout of hysteria passes.

“Chi’shin,” is the curt answer and Soowon blinks, caught off guard.

“Chi’shin as in…the Earth Tribe capital?” he asks, looking around the nondescript room again. Now that Joodoh has mentioned it, this room is painted pretty distinctively in Earth Tribe colors. “Chi’shin as in where General Geun Tae lives?”

Joodoh’s entire face scrunches at the mention of Geun Tae. “Yes, well, it would seem that that man has _some_ uses after all. He’s been in stalemate with Sujin since the coup. This is probably the safest place to hide you, My Lord.”

As if on cue, the door bangs open and Geun Tae walks in as if he owns the place – which, to be fair, he does. If possible, Joodoh’s face darkens even more.

“Don’t bang the doors, idiot! What if he was still asleep?” he barks and is completely ignored. Geun Tae pushes past him and stands with his arms crossed, appraising Soowon’s face.

“Hmm… Don’t look much like your father, do you?” he finally drawls, amber eyes narrowing.

“I’ve been told I resemble my mother, General,” Soowon replies, raising an eyebrow. Joodoh seems to trust this man, despite his snappy comments, but Soowon has no proof that Geun Tae will not throw him back to Sujin.

Geun Tae shrugs, “Well, no matter. Even if you don’t look anything like your father’s side of the family, you are the closest King Il had to an heir. We can use that against Sujin.”

Joodoh grunts. “Geun Tae, you dolt, the true heir is Princess Yona. If Sujin has her squirreled away somewhere it is hopeless. Until we know where she is we cannot make a move like that.”

Hearing her name sends a horrible jolt to Soowon’s heart. He hunches his shoulders, and forces the words out.

“Yona…my wife, she is dead.”

Both Generals turn so quickly in his directions that their cloaks snap.

“Wife!?” says Geun Tae.

“Dead!?” says Joodoh.

Then they turn to look at each other and back at him.

“Dead!?” says Geun Tae.

“Wife!?” says Joodoh.

The conversation does not improve from there. But the numbness that had been Soowon’s constant companion has gone. As he lays there alone that night, a new plan begins to take form. He has been betrayed, denied his vengeance, and has lost his dearest friends. He will have Sujin’s head, regardless of how long it takes.

 

* * *

 

They are celebrating their victory against Kumji when the news comes. The General is summoning any and all military forces. The Earth Tribe is rising in revolt.

As soon as the message is relayed, Hak immediately looks to Yona. She is staring right back at him, mouth set in a determined line.

“This may be our chance, “ she says.

 

Ever since their fall, an unquenchable fire has lit in Yona’s soul. The loss of her husband was the last straw and upon waking in the priest’s small shack, she has moved at a restless pace, all traces of the absentminded princess from the palace gone.

Yet even as they are thrust into a fairytale of dragons and prophecies and _of course_ it is Yona to whom all these legendary things are drawn, Yona remains unerringly kind. Despite the frustration Hak knows she must feel at every delay, there is never any blame in her for Kija’s ignorant mishaps or Shin-ah’s childlike behavior, only boundless tolerance and love. Hak can see that they love her in return. As the White Snake had said, they are her dragons. Even this new one, Jae-ha, with his words full of denial, cannot keep his eyes from her. Just two days after joining their little group, Yona has unwittingly wrapped him around her little finger.

Hak watches her and loves her more with every passing day. And, each time, Soowon’s absence hits him and he hates himself for even dreaming of replacing his friend – his king - in Yona’s heart.

They have no evidence that Soowon is dead. The last thing Hak remembers of his friend is Soowon’s scream of helpless rage being replaced by the wind in his ears. But Hak assumes that should Sujin get his hands on a royal of the Sky Tribe, he wouldn’t keep quiet about it. They had visited every town they passed, discreetly asking for news from the capitol but there is nothing of relevance. Neither he nor Yona mention the all too high chance of Soowon having been executed quietly weeks ago: it feels like if they talk about it, it will come true.

 

 

That night, they pack and set off, walking slightly ahead of Awa’s hastily gathered militia. Hak knows the way to Chi’shin and it is odd, after the past months, to be traveling based on something other than a dragon’s intuition. Yona is tense, staring off into the distance as they walk. Her three dragons trail behind her. Kija and Shin-ah exchange meaningful glances often, although with Shin-ah’s mask it is actually just Kija staring intensely at the Blue Dragon.

“Princess, what about Ouryuu?” Kija eventually asks, halting and deferential. It will never cease to amaze Hak how humble the White Snake can sound when talking to the princess, only to turn around and speak with absolute imperiousness to everyone else.

Yona’s brow furrows, eyes sweeping over her gathered dragons. Hak knows she is thinking of Shin-ah’s cave, of the possibility of abandoning another dragon to a terrible fate for more time.

“Can you sense Ouryuu at all?” she deflects, and receives frustrated confirmation that no, Ouryuu’s presence is completely masked still. “Then we have no choice. General Geun-Tae calls for aid now. It is the best opportunity to strike back at Sujin, with the Earth Tribe army by our side. Ouryuu will have to wait a bit longer.“

The next morning, Ouryuu eats half their breakfast.

 

They debate on how to present themselves to Geun Tae around the campfire. Yoon advocates subtlety, sneaking in disguised as doctors or having Jae-ha do reconnaissance. But there is no time for anything like that. In the end, they go with Kija’s idea. They walk through the gates with the rest of the gathering fighting force and find the nearest official. The man looks incredibly irritated to be distracted but the presence of Hak, standing menacingly at his princess’ side, glaive thrown carelessly over his shoulder, makes him grudgingly turn to face her.

“What?” the man snarls.

“I am Princess Yona,” Yona says, shaking her shorn hair free of its hood. “Take me to the general now, please.”

  

           Hak fought General Geun Tae once, in a gilded tournament – the only violence that King Il felt remotely comfortable around - that feels hazy and unreal now. He remembers the brute strength and quick wit and how the crowd had loved this man. Geun Tae was a figure of constant motion and booming laughter in his mind.

            The man before them now is unnaturally still, staring at Yona in shocked silence. She fidgets a little, and it is somehow comforting. She has been presenting a confident front but in truth this is all very new to her, being so important in the eyes of other people. When she leans from foot to foot, Hak remembers her impatient, bubbly persona from the palace with bittersweet fondness.

            “You…truly, you are Princess Yona, aren’t you,” Geun Tae breathes. He blinks rapidly, as if to clear his head, and schools his face into a less abashed expression. “Why have you come?”

“You are fighting against Sujin, aren’t you?” Yona replies, somewhat incredulously.

Geun Tae raises an eyebrow. “Your father would not have approved of our methods, Princess.”

            She flinches a little and sudden anger at the General’s callousness flashes in Hak’s chest. He knows King Il’s ghost haunts her every time she draws a knife or sets an arrow to the string. But when she speaks again, Yona’s tone is calm.

“Sujin has led invaders into our country for personal glory, with no thought for the Tribes. Now Fuuga is dying of thirst, and his own Fire villages are plague ridden and starving. I loved my father, but I cannot stand by and let his people- my people! - suffer because he would have wanted me to remain safe. Sujin has already deprived me of my father and of my husband, I will not let him tear the country apart as well!”

Hak can’t help the proud smirk that stretches across his face at Geun Tae’s flabbergasted expression. She is truly someone incredible, his princess. He wants everyone to see her, feel her fiery drive and righteous anger. Sujin does not stand a chance.

The door opens then, without any knock or preamble. Hak supposes he shouldn’t be surprised. The level of formality between Geun Tae and his people has always been extremely low. His aides are probably used to barging in at any time.

From his position by the wall, the door blocks Hak’s view of the intruder. But Yona, who turns curiously at the interruption, gasps suddenly, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Hak is instantly on alert. He takes two large steps, placing himself between Yona and the doorway, just in time to see the pile of scrolls fall from Soowon’s shaking hands. His friend’s eyes are huge in his chalk white face.

“Soowon,” Hak hears Yona whisper behind him. Then, with a wild cry she launches herself past him and tackles her husband, knocking them both into the corridor. They go down in a flurry of robes, scattering the fallen scrolls all over the floor.

Yona has her arms twined around Soowon’s neck and is sobbing into his shoulder, loud and unashamed. He looks like someone hit him over the head with something blunt and heavy. Slowly, one of his hands comes up to touch a strand of Yona’s fiery hair. The look in his eyes makes something inside of Hak shrivel up in sympathy. How many times has Hak burst awake from a dream that he had let her die, not been fast enough, strong enough, good enough? He has seen her dead enough times in his sleep. Soowon has lived these past months in that reality.

Soowon’s voice is barely audible, shaking slightly. “Yona…? Are you a ghost?”

He twists the strand lightly in his fingers, staring blankly at it. A barely perceptible shudder runs through him and he finally folds, burying his face in her hair.

Rapid footsteps sound down the hallway and all four of Yona’s dragons appear around the corner. Hak had suspected since the battle in Awa that part of the dragons’ mystical connection to their master was sensitivity to her emotions. Judging from their dark expressions and by the way Kija’s claw keeps twitching as they approach, they had likely sensed her tears and came to rain fiery wrath upon whoever had upset the princess.

Hak turns to intercept them, somewhat grateful for the distraction from the scene behind him. He needs time to sort out the complicated knot of relief-confusion-jealousy-happiness that has formed in his throat. It is much easier to focus on calming four high strung mythical beasts.

Unexpectedly, Zeno takes one look at the princess and relaxes, coming to stand beside Hak. At the appearance of his familiar vapid smile, the tension of the other three dissipates.

“Ah, Zeno hoped that this was what was happening. Good, good. Zeno is very happy for the Miss,” he chirps. Kija and Jaeha instantly explode into argument about whether or not Zeno has the right to make statements like that, whether they should have run all the way over here, the merits of comfortable shoes... Hak does not care enough to follow their discussion.

Geun Tae, who Hak has completely forgotten about, peers out of the doorway, and raises an eyebrow at the small army that has gathered by his door. He seems to understand that this is not the time for explanations, though, and retreats back into his office after casting a pleased glance at the reunion. Hak suddenly remembers another side to Geun Tae. Matchmaker. _Oh gods, he was going to be unbearable now._

At that moment, Yoon appears, railing loudly at being left behind. He is partially drowned out by the concerned voice of General Joodoh, who turns the corner at the opposite end of the corridor.

The clamour only grows from there, but Yona calls his name from behind him, and Hak instantly dismisses the rest of them from his mind. She grinning, holding out a hand to him in a clear summons. He walks over to them and kneels, bowing his head. Before he can say anything, though, Soowon’s arm snakes around his neck and pulls him off balance and into their embrace.

“None of that now, Hak,” Yona laughs, punching him playfully in the shoulder. Soowon’s hand tightens around Hak’s bicep.

“Thank you, Hak… I am very happy that you are not dead,” he says, leaning over until their noses nearly touch. The deadened look has mostly disappeared from his eyes.

“I am also happy that we are not dead,” Hak scoffs and is rewarded with laughter from both the royal cousins. For that moment, everything is as it should be.

* * *

 

 

The first major battle of the rebellion goes unexpectedly well for them. Soowon watches his plans unfold exactly as predicted and allows himself a single, grim smile. He will see Sujin crushed for his betrayal. This is only the beginning.

The Fire Tribe army is forced to surrender some ground in their retreat, so the rebellion retakes several Sky Tribe villages in one swoop. But the crowning achievement is that in their very first battle, in a wild stroke of luck and dragon claws, the rebellion has managed to take a very important prisoner: Sujin’s son and the current commander of his armies, Kang Kyo-ga.

He is not kept in the dungeons. As an important political hostage, Kyo-ga merits a comfortable room, equipped with a writing desk and a decent bed. The windows are barred and there is an armed guard at the door, of course, but Soowon knows that Kyo-ga will have been expecting much worse from his enemies. From what Soowon remembers of him, he has always had a very stark view of the world. Soowon requested the comfortable accommodations in part to unbalance Kyo-ga, though if he is honest, Yona probably would have protested harsh treatment of a hostage and he had no wish to be in opposition with her.

Fighting in the cavalry, Yona’s dragons had taken moderate damage during the battle, so Yona had elected to stay in Chi’shin until they all healed. This was a slight hiccup in their plans, since Yona with her dragons would have been the perfect emissary to the reclaimed Sky Tribe villages. She has an incredible effect on people. The morale in the army from her presence is at an all time high. Who could doubt their success when the powers of the four dragons are on their side?

Yona feels a great connection to the poor people of Kouka, that much is obvious from her impassioned speeches. Unfortunately, Yona is also fiercely protective of her little band and will not leave Chi’shin until she was sure that they were all healthy, leaving Soowon to go to the villages in her place. It rankles him to separate from Hak and Yona so soon after being reunited with them, on top of not having seen them much in the last week because of the battle, but this needs to be done as soon as possible.

The Sky Tribe villages are more or less as expected: slightly shabbier than they had been, with wary, hard eyed people. They are greeted suspiciously in all of them. Most of the villages clearly do not care much as to who ruled over their land as long as their taxes stayed manageable. All of them had been too inconsequential for Sujin to have even thought about. Only three of the dozen had even seen a Fire Tribe soldier outside the regular tax collection during the occupation. The rest got news via merchant gossip.

This is why it is important that Soowon must make sure that these villages know now that they are noticed and cared about. The complacency and detachment of the people had been the most frightening thing to him during his uncle’s rule: they had seemed willing to let another nation walk in and take them over without batting an eye. If mustered properly, these people’s mistrust could be turned into loyalty that would hold the country together. So Soowon takes care to speak with every chief and distribute food and medicine personally in each village. It is not very much, but after being completely ignored for their entire existence, literally, any attention from above goes a long way.

It is a fairly exhausting and lengthy task. The villages are close together, but the roads are often poor and Soowon stays at least a night in each village. When Soowon finally rides back through the gates with his entourage – much bigger than he would have preferred, and much smaller than Joodoh had wanted to saddle him with - nearly two weeks have passed since he had left Chi’shin.

He is truly looking forward to sequestering himself for an evening or two in the town house that he and Yona have been allocated by Geun Tae. It houses him, Yona, and six other men, which is not at all what Geun Tae had intended. It is perfect, and not only because it annoys the generals. Soowon finds it very comforting to be surrounded by people who do not care about his status. His nightmares are also considerably quieter in the noisy environment. And Yona’s companions are all fascinating individuals who Soowon genuinely enjoys speaking with.

Geun Tae is out somewhere when Soowon, dusty and tired from a day of constant riding, comes to his office. Soowon leaves the report of his findings on Geun Tae’s desk. He has no wish to stand here and wait: they will discuss the report tomorrow with Joodoh and Hak, sifting through all the information about resources and terrain he has gathered. But for now, Soowon bids his retinue good night, smiling to finally be rid of their constant silent hovering, and sets off, blessedly alone, towards the townhouse.

The windows are lit and someone is baking – Yoon, for sure, it smells too good to be anyone else. Soowon opens the door quietly and slips off his shoes. He stands there for a long moment, enjoying the faint hum of arguing men and Yona’s laughter that he can hear echoing through the corridors. It soothes the nervous buzzing that has been a staple of his life since _that day_. Surrounded by the noise of people living, Soowon can close his eyes and just… not think for a little.

When he opens them again, the voices in the corridor have faded to low murmurs and he is being watched. It is the masked man, Shin-ah, standing there silently. Soowon smiles at Shin-ah and is not surprised when Shin-ah does not smile back. He suspects that the Seiryuu, ever hidden behind his mask, has never had much use for facial expressions that no one could see anyway.

Shin-ah turns abruptly, indicating with a shoulder shrug that he wishes to be followed. They walk through the now- silent corridors towards the sitting room that connects to Yona and Soowon’s chambers. Shin-ah slides open the screen door and waits, showing no will to enter himself. Shrugging internally, Soowon enters with a word of thanks and the door closes again behind him.

Hak and Yona are sitting turned away from him, backlit by the fireplace. When they hear the screen close, they stand, nearly in unison, and turn to look at Soowon in a motion that seems wrong somehow. Hak’s arms are crossed, muscles tense and knotted. His face is inscrutable, but there is no warmth in his expression.

Yona cuts an unassuming figure next to the looming form of her bodyguard. She is regarding Soowon with a fragile expression on her face and something inside of Soowon goes cold. His intuition tells him that he does not want to hear what she is going to say and it is rarely wrong.

“We spoke with Kyo-ga, Soowon. He told us… oh, he said that you _knew._ That you were planning their coup with them...?”

Soowon’s stomach plummets. _No_. _They were not supposed to ever find out_. He scrabbles for something to say, anything to make them stop looking at him that way. Something to make them trust him like they always have. He can find nothing, mouth flapping open and closed wordlessly.

Yona’s face crumples and she turns away. “So it was true…”

Hak’s eyes flash and before Soowon has time to exclaim, he is being propelled backwards by a vice like grip on his shoulder. Hak slams him against the large wooden wardrobe, hard. The drawers rattle and Soowon lets out a sharp cry, pain shooting through his recently healed ribs. Hak’s forearm is pressed firmly against the base of Soowon’s neck and Soowon freezes at the sudden pressure, mind spinning in dizzying circles. _Why? Why now?_

“Hak!” comes Yona’s anguished cry, “Please stop this.”

Hak actually growls, but the pressure on Soowon’s neck diminishes and he steps away, still glaring murderously. Soowon coughs faintly, rubbing a hand against what is going to be a brilliant bruise tomorrow. His mind is still curiously blank. Funny, how this blankness is what he had wanted not ten minutes ago.

“How could you, Soowon?” Hak hisses through his teeth, fists clenched and shaking. “I know you. You don’t care about power. ” Yona is watching them both with huge, tear stained eyes.

Soowon shakes his head wordlessly. Hak does know him, probably better than anyone else does.

“Then _why_?” Hak sounds as angry as ever but Soowon knows Hak just as well as Hak knows him. Most of all, Hak fears betrayal. And this, for Hak, is the worst kind of betrayal.

His silence is unsatisfactory. A fist imbeds itself inches from his head.

“Why?! King Il was kind and gentle! How could you have plotted to – to kill him?” At that, there is a small sob from Yona. The blankness in his head is slowly being replaced with numbness. _This is bad,_ he thinks, _getting angry will only make it worse._ But he can’t stop the rising rage. He is angry, and has been since _that day_. The anger chills him to the bone and his face settles into a emotionless mask. He knows how it looks, for this is the face he sees reflected at him in every mirror. He is cold, cold, cold. His father lies dead a decade, doomed to be forever unavenged. His friends, the two people who had taken all the love he had still been capable of giving, the people he now knows he _cannot lose_ look at him like he is a monster. And they’re right to: he is one. A cold, calculating monster and a failure of a son. It is all he knows how to be.

Suddenly, in a flood of monotonous words, it all comes spilling out. The murder and the years of plotting vengeance. The failing country, the country his father had given so much for, close to collapsing from internal and external pressures. And after a decade of work, betrayal.

When his words finally peter out, it is deathly quiet in the room. The fire is burning low. Hak has turned to stare into the embers, fingers clenching and unclenching spasmodically. But Yona watches him with a curious expression. Tear tracks glisten on her cheeks but there is something in her face now other than pain. It is not hatred either, as Soowon would have expected.

He is shocked into letting his expressionless mask fall when she walks towards him and slowly but firmly takes his hands. Hak looks ready to burn the room down but she quells him with a glance, before looking seriously back at her husband.

“What a vicious circle we have found ourselves in, Soowon,” she murmurs, squeezing his hands. “My father killed yours, so you would have killed him, leaving me with vengeance as my right. What would you have me do now? You were not the one who killed my father. Do I kill you for something you did not do? No.”

“What will you do, then?” he asks, quietly. There is no judgement in her gaze, just bottomless, swallowing kindness. Soowon spontaneously remembers the old legends… Four dragons and their master…

“When Sujin killed my father, I wanted to die. And I had you and Hak there with me…How must you have felt, alone, with no one to turn to? You were what, nine years old then? No, Soowon, it is a tragedy that turned you into this.” It feels like she can see through him. His wife, his cousin who had trailed after him in childhood and watched him with love-struck eyes during her adolescence, is someone unrecognizable in this moment. Someone large, imposing. Divine.

But then, she seems to diminish, turning back into her fragile, familiar self. Her arms fall to her sides.

“Our marriage made me so happy… and it will bring our country prosperity. We are stronger together. So I will forgive you for this, Soowon. But not now. I will need some time.”

He inclines his head silently in acceptance. It is infinitely more than he could have expected from her. In her position, he would have…in her position, he had plotted murder.

She smiles at him tremulously and reaches out to embrace him, running her arms lightly down his back. Then, she turns on her heel and leaves the room. He can hear the dragons gathering around her in the hallway.

Hak is still glaring at him, and there is no forgiveness to be found anywhere in his gaze, or in the sharp angles of his stance. Soowon stares expressionlessly back at him, feeling completely empty. With a sneer of disgust, his best friend turns and follows Yona out of the room.

They are gone the next morning, leaving no note as to their destination and plans. Soowon sits in the empty house and thinks of how he will present this turn of events to the generals. This is fine. He must give her time. Maybe, with time, even Hak would be willing to move past this. At that thought, Soowon cannot stop a wry smile at his own pitiful state. He knows Hak too well to believe that. Yona may forgive him for his attempted betrayal but Hak never will. At that thought, the buzzing numbness starts up in his head again and refuses to leave.

**Author's Note:**

> and yet this is still probably the happiest one...
> 
> Sorry not sorry about the excessive whump. It's too fun to write. Thanks as always to Gray Blue Green for taking the time to hash out the major plot points of this with me. <3
> 
> I am greymantleish on tumblr: come say hi!


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